


smile at despair in the name of hope

by shslsweetheart



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Drabble, Implied/Referenced Character Death, My First AO3 Post, One Shot, yeah so here's a fanganronpa snippet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 10:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20289958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shslsweetheart/pseuds/shslsweetheart
Summary: the ultimate lucky student and the ultimate casino dealer face off when events take a turn for the unexpected.ORa danganronpa au snippet about what might happen if one murder occurs just before another can take place. involves entirely original characters who might exist in a v3-like world. who knows. i haven't really thought that much about it yet.





	smile at despair in the name of hope

in all honesty, she hadn’t heard him come in. it was a stroke of luck that saved her in that instant: some kind of bug scurried across the wall in her peripheral vision. when she turned her head to identify it, that’s when she saw him. 

he was right there, only a foot or two away from her. holding a kitchen knife in possibly the most menacing way possible. maybe the very same one june had killed arthur with. 

the moment he saw the glint of realization in her eyes, he moved, discarding whatever semblance of stealth he possessed. surprisingly, she moved back just as quickly, avoiding the wild swings of the blade he brandished. it looked like he was panicking in the face of the failure of his original plan. 

though her jaw hung open as if she intended to speak, she couldn’t force a single word out of her throat. not a scream or a cry for help or even a simple plea for her own life. she just scrambled backwards as gracefully as she could manage (which honestly wasn’t very) never taking her eyes off him. he too, was strangely quiet for someone attempting to murder someone who he considered a friend; the only noises that escaped him were the occasional low grunts as he threw furniture to the side. on the warpath. 

when he managed to slash her arm when he backed her against the wall,  _ that’s _ when the pair truly grasped the gravity of the situation they were in. while she let out a variation of the cry of pain as was expected from her, he let out a terrible, strangled laugh. the kind a man on his deathbed laughs the moment before the plunge. it lasted only a moment, but it left a strange new light in both their eyes. 

she cradled her arm to her chest, and lowered her head. taking this as a sign that she had given up, he closed the remaining distance and raised the knife. this was it. 

but she had a last minute change of heart. once he started to follow through with the motion, she moved. she tried to push past him towards his side, but once he realized what she was doing, she wouldn’t get away. he grabbed her arm in a vice grip and started again, keeping her in place as well as he could. but she had decided that yes, she really did want to live. she put up one hell of a fight, or at least, as much of one as someone with her stature could. 

it was clear from the start that if it came down to a question of physical capability, he would win without question. trying his best to calm her struggle, he managed to wrestle her to the floor, pinning her. trapping her arms above her with one hand, he raised his knife again in the other. she stared up at him with a curious expression: not one of disbelief or terror, as would be expected of her, but one of pity. shaggy hair hid his eyes. she would never know what he was thinking. not that she did on a normal day, anyway. he had always been unreadable.

the moment he started again to follow through with that sacred motion, she screwed her eyes shut. 

the knife was barely an inch from her throat when the pair heard a familiar _ding dong dong ding. _ he and his would-be victim made eye contact for the silence that lasted a fraction of a second. 

_ a body has been discovered! _

and for a moment, for she and her would-be murderer, the world ended. his hand, the one that still held the knife centimeters from her throat, began to shake. he would not pull it away just yet. 

but then diana started to cry. sob, bawl, wail,  _ scream _ . one moment she was drifting disconnected in space and the next she was a mangled corpse on an old sidewalk, shimmering in the summer heat. that was the moment james dropped the knife. didn’t bother to throw it to the side, just dropped it. maybe out of anger, but it was more likely out of shock. if she hadn’t been struggling so much, twisting her head around and around in an attempt to spot some hopeful future that didn’t exist, she probably would have died, her throat slit. with her luck, it only left a thin slice of a wound on her neck on its way down, the depth of a paper cut. 

“ _ why _ .” it wasn’t a question. at least, it didn’t sound like one. it didn’t sound like much of anything. maybe an expletive, if nothing else. “this all would have been over. one way or another. this all would have been over.”

that got her to stop crying. well, at least, to quiet herself down to mere sobs and hiccups.  “james.” her voice was low. he still had her hands trapped above her head, still rested most of his weight on her. she could still feel his breath hot on her face. 

“james— _ please _ .” 

“you're begging now. _now?_ i can’t even—i should’ve known.” he laughed. “that’s just like you.”   


she opened her mouth to try calling his name again, but a hiccup escaped her throat instead.  “it could’ve all been over.” his hair fell back over his eyes again, his voice shifted back into his usual deadpan. “for both of us.” he released his hold on the girl and moved to sit back against the wall next to her. she didn’t move. the adrenaline had worn off; the slices in her arm and neck throbbed to the beat of her heart. cradling those wounds, she curled up into a ball, and could do nothing but sob. 

if it didn’t mean all her friends would be condemned she would have gladly died for him. but of course it wasn’t that easy. of course now she and him would have to continue on this path as classmates with the knowledge that he was more than willing to trade not only her life, but the lives of all their friends, for his own. he didn’t even have the decency to make it quick; he was going to stab her in the throat without another thought. but all of that, all of that didn’t even matter. 

someone else had beaten him to the punch. he didn’t know what would happen if he killed her now; he couldn’t afford to take that risk. and he was so damn close too! so damn close to leaving this god forsaken place! he buried his head in his hands. what the hell was he even saying? he was so close to leaving because he was an inch away from killing his classmate? his friend that tried her best to keep all of their heads above the waves no matter what form despair took as it rained down on them? she was still too stricken with fear and pain to move from the spot which would have been her last. he couldn’t even bear to look at her now. how could he? what could he possibly say to her?

it was just her luck, she thought. of course, the thing that saved her life was the death of yet another friend. this never-ending cycle of hope and despair continued in the worst way she could imagine. part of her wished he had finished her off. she could have died with the hope that she could have been the last to give their life for this hopeless game. 

s he only remembered she had work to do when she noticed a certain wetness on her chest. the cut that he had first given her in that initial chase was bleeding quite steadily, and had already left a stain on her white blouse that suffice to say, was never coming out. she couldn’t lay here forever. one of her friends was dead, and she didn’t even know who. if she was expected to lead her friends through the trial, she had to get started. even if she wasn’t anywhere near mentally prepared. 

he raised his head when he heard a shifting, and gave her quite a look when she rose to her feet, knees threatening to buckle underneath her. honestly, he was surprised she didn’t take the knife with her. either she didn’t think that he would try again, or she wouldn’t care if he did. he opened his mouth to call out to her only when she started to push open the door. but she was quicker. 

“don’t worry.” that was all she said. then she turned and left. 

he don’t know how much time has passed between that exchange and the point where he decided it was time to leave. but he did decide that he’d take the knife with him. 

another stroke of her luck was that marie was the one to first find her stumbling out of the study. while she was quick to express her concern, she complied with diana’s request that she refrain from asking any questions about said wounds. she listened when she said that the issue that caused them had already been resolved, and that there was nothing that she could do. through gritted teeth, the ultimate mercenary accepted this, though diana knew it was with suspicion. and that was perfectly fine, understandable, certainly. then it was time to break the news to her. 

elaine was dead. found impaled in the rec room. marie couldn’t stop staring at the bloodstain on the other’s shirt the whole time she was talking. diana decided that words were no longer necessary to conduct her investigation. or rather, decided that she no longer had the will to communicate with others after this whirlwind of despair the last half an hour had been. so she spoke to no one, not about elaine’s death, not about the blood on her shirt and certainly not about how she was an inch from the plunge herself only minutes ago. not that she would’ve told them about the latter if she were in a talking mood anyway. the investigation felt like it was over in a heartbeat. then it was trial time. 

james stood next to her in the elevator. he had looked around the crime scene himself, and was surprised to find that no one was treating him any differently than normal. everyone was acting accordingly. that could only mean one thing: she hadn’t told anyone. the knife heavy in his pocket, he stood tall. a physical reminder to diana that her luck could and would run out sooner rather than later. 

the first quarter of the trial passed in a daze for her. everything sounded like she was underwater. she wouldn’t speak, not even to give a snarky retort to alexander’s malicious prodding. when the time of death was established, and it was time for everyone to give their alibis, she remained silent. her ears perked up when james’ innocence was called into question. while it didn’t seem like either of them had an alibi, he was actually able to be interrogated, unlike her. so they started positing their own theories and ideas, until she got sick of hearing james plead with them that surely there was a mistake, and that he was innocent. 

“i can vouch for him.” their gazes bore through her. “he didn’t do it. he didn’t kill her.”

some stared in bewilderment, others in disbelief. alexander shook his head and laughed, crossing his arms. “and what, exactly makes you so certain?” 

“he was trying to kill me when she died.” the courtroom erupted in conversation all at once. well, there were far more questions posited than answers given, so who’s really to say that the word “conversation” was the right one? (arthur’s spirit must have been lingering in the courtroom.)  


every pointed glare and disbelieving stare was directed towards james. he just stared back at diana; it was clear there was nothing hidden behind his eyes. he pulled the knife, still stained with her blood, out of his jacket pocket, and presented it to the class. the room fell silent. 

“why didn’t you tell anyone?” moira’s eyes held a certain darkness diana had never seen before. she was almost too afraid to answer. almost. 

“oh, i know he wouldn’t have really done it. my friends wouldn’t do such terrible things.” 

oh,  _ but he would have. _ he was still thinking about it, after they finished this trial, what he would do with her. if he could even pull off her murder now, now that he would certainly be the prime suspect if diana turned up dead. sure, the guilt would never leave him, but no one else would have to suffer through this despair any longer. they would be free. he snapped out of his trance when her expression shifted. 

she was smiling. a big, bright, dazzling smile. though the corners of her mouth wavered in uncertainty, it still counted for something. how could anyone like her 

smile at despair in the name of hope. that was how she would win. she would never give in. she would rather die trusting her friends than survive suspecting them. she had already made the tough choice hours ago: whether she was ready to die or still wanted to live. and she would protect these people, every last one of them, until she took her last breath. she would solve this case, and the next one and the next one until her friends made the same decision she did. everything else mattered very little. 

she was to smile at despair in the name of hope. that was how she would win. 


End file.
